He's Gone
by Eagle09
Summary: Set between Season 7 and 8, Sam deals with the aftermath of losing Dean and must contend with his own fragile mind. Angsty Sam. Rated T for imagery and suicidal themes.


Disclaimer: I own nothing

A/N It never made sense to me that Sam just wouldn't look for Dean at all after he ended up in Purgatory. Like, at all. I always wished there was a flashback showing that he actually was, but just reached his mental limits. Trigger warning for slight suicidal thoughts.

Page after page flipped. Shaking, ink-stained fingers traced the sentence as he attempted to make out the words through bleary eyes. Sam scanned the pages rapidly, searching desperately for any kind of lead, hint, fable , note in the margin about where a human and an angel could've ended up after being sucked into a black hole caused by the death of the king of monsters. Nothing.

"You are truly alone." His brother had disappeared, sucked into a whirling vortex with Cas caused by the death of Dick Roman. With no trace at all. No body, no sound, no proof if he was even alive. Crowley's words rang in Sam's ears constantly as he looked for any trace of Dean. Days turned into weeks. Sam traveled from town to town, library to library, seedy motel from seedy motel, what little hope he had dwindling at each dead end. His sanity endangered as the loneliness enveloped him more and more with each passing day.

Sam tried to push it away, tried to temporarily replace it. He played the cassette tapes Dean had haphazardly tossed into the worn out cardboard box. He drove the Impala, Dean's car, with the window rolled all the way down, breeze ruffling his long hair as he tried to outrun the stifling fear that sat heavily on his soul. Out of character, Sam tried to drown it out in whiskey. That was Dean's method normally, not his. But normal had gone out the window a long time ago.

Nights were the worst. While awake Sam could force himself into his work, drown himself in alcohol and cheap junk food, immerse himself in lore. But nothing could help the dreams. While Cas had been able to remove the hallucinations of Lucifer, he could not take away the actual memories of the Cage, the actual scars marked and clawed onto his very soul. Well after the psychiatric hospital, Sam still woke gasping from the horrific images that replayed in his dreams. He would look over quickly to Dean's bed, reassuring himself of his brother's presence. He would see Dean looking at him through heavy eyes. "Sammy, you okay?" Sam swallowed, brushing his fingers through sweat soaked hair. "Yeah, just a dream."

But now when he woke up screaming with the images of hell in his eyes and pain from Lucifer's tortures in his body, and looking over desperately for the comforting form of his brother, there was nothing but an empty bed covered in carelessly tossed books. And the images raged. He sat up in bed gasping, head clutched in his hands, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he tried to force himself to reality.

And one night, Sam reached his limits.

_"Dean!" Sam screamed in agony as he twisted away from the stinging pain of another endless torture. He backed up as far away as he could from his Tormentor, back flush against the iron bars chiseled with Enochian sigils that imprisoned him in the deepest depths of hell. The rotten smell of sulphur and the iron of his own blood stung his nostrils. Flames raged just outside the Cage, yet despite them, Sam still shivered from the bone chill that had settled long ago into him, chilling his very soul. _

_Lucifer chuckled darkly, "Sam, Sam, Sam, how long are you going to keep screaming for your brother? He can't hear you, and even if he could, and boy, do I wish he could, be a little fair payback for his part in sticking me back in here," he tapped the bars for emphasis, "He'll never be able to get you." He lifted the talon that curled from the normal place of a fingernail and studied the blood that stained it, "I mean seriously, whats the point?"_

_Sam stared down at his feet, whispering more to himself than anyone, "Dean will find me. He will get me out, if anyone can it's him."_

_"Oh for my dad's sake, Sam!" Sam jumped and curled in on himself as Lucifer's voice boomed and his presence suddenly crowded on the man, "Dean's not coming! For one thing, you made him promise not to rescue you. That one's on you, dummy. And second, he's in Purgatory, you're dreaming, and you're all alone."_

_Sam looked up sharply, breath catching in his throat, "No."_

_"Yes," Lucifer squatted next to Sam, ignoring the human's squirmings to get away from him. His faced morphed into one of genuine sympathy. " Oh, Sammy," he crooned, threading his fingers through Sam's sweat-soaked hair. Sam slapped the offending hand away, "Get away from me!" _

_"Sammy, this is all a dream. Bad memories, sure, after all you humans were always weak, spineless little creatures. To allow a memory to incapacitate you so much," Lucifer shuddered, "But still, it's just a dream. IRL, big bro Dean is gone, dead, sucked away, whatever, and you. Are. All. Alone ." Lucifer grinned cruelly, "And I'm the only company you have."_

_"NO! DEAN!"_

Sam's scream echoed off the thin motel room walls, a loud thud being heard as he rolled off the bed. He opened his eyes, unseeing of his surroundings, kicking and scrabbling at the blankets tangled around his ankles. Images of hellfire, Lucifer, the shocked and confused expression in his brother's eyes just before he disappeared into the vortex flashed before his eyes.

"Dean!" Sam crawled to the opposite bed desperately searching for the comforting form of Dean. The smell of whiskey and gun oil, the hearty laughter, the annoying habit of spilling snacks all over the blankets. Sam propped himself on the empty bed, head clutched in his hands, groaning as the memories threatened to overwhelm his already crumbling psyche.

With a cry he launched himself to his feet and threw open the motel room door, running out into the night air. He stumbled into the Impala and leaned on her hood. Gasping for air, Sam clawed towards the driver's door and wrenched it open, throwing himself inside. The keys were fumbled from his pocket, and Sam peeled out of the dark parking lot with a roar from the engine.

Down the road he raced, trying to outrun the anxiety and agony of his own broken, scarred mind. Sam let the tears fall from his eyes. What did it matter anymore? Despite the fact it was just a dream, Lucifer was right, and Sam was losing it. He wanted his big brother, the only one who could make it better, But he was gone, and Sam would never see him again.

Sam raced faster down the dark road.


End file.
